


Carved from Gods.

by Honeyglued



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Hannibal Lecter - Freeform, M/M, No Y/N used, Other, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Reader is self conscious, Reader-Insert, Self-Esteem Issues, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, body image issues, domestic Hannibal, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27979338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeyglued/pseuds/Honeyglued
Summary: The reader is helping Hannibal cook during a rainy night, and when he begins to compliment them, how they react catches him slightly off guard.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Reader, Hannibal Lecter/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 100





	Carved from Gods.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm also expanding over different pronouns and fandoms - I hope peepaw lovers enjoy reading this as much as I had fun writing it. As per usual, No Y/N is used during this story :) 
> 
> (Alot of this was written during my classes and gaps I get online, so excuse any jump arounds within the wording! thank you C: )

The man was quiet as he poured the wine into the glass with the near muscle memory of when to stop. He lifted the bottle towards the other, letting his thumb slide underneath the labeled glass; It was engraved within it. “Speriamo,” He spoke, his voice soft as they read over the word. “Italian, for “ _ Let’s hope”  _ .” Hannibal guided the lip of the glass towards them, his eyes lifting to meet theirs. “Nineteen seventy, aged for fifty years in solid honey-coated oak,” The other smiled as their hand met the cold stem of the glass, letting their fingers clasp underneath the bowl. Hannibal let a crack of a small smile reach his lips as they sipped at it quietly, his hands sliding back to the cutting board and sharpened knife. He held down the thick carrot on the wood as they leaned forward, watching his hands work with ease, leisurely drinking at the savory red wine. A growing hum made the man glance up towards them, their eyes slid shut and a small grin pasted over their pursed lips.

“How much did this cost?” They asked after a moment, the back of their right hand wiping against anything leftover on their face. One of their eyebrows perched upwards in question when Hannibal quietly laughed, his right hand crushing down onto the blade gently against the vegetable. 

“Materialism is a detail that seems to leave me during times like these.” He scrapped the flat of the knife against the wood, guiding the thin slices off to the side. “Leaves in the wind; It takes me and I decide to enjoy the temporary breeze rather than ponder the heeding storm.” They chuckled a bit at this, setting the glass down beside their own cutting board, minced thyme and crushed sage sitting in a small neat pile off to the left of the wooden square. They hummed quietly, instead, a small melody that had pulled forward from the past few days of listening to music; Hannibal slowed his startlingly brisk chops as he came to an end of a second carrot, his fingers dipping towards a few previously boiled brussel sprouts. He relished in the sweet hums of the shorter cook, the small sounds more in tune than any melody he’d created or listened to. The sweet poetic sighs as they veered forward against more spices, hands working fast at other vegetables that needed preparing; Not just the warm music of their voice enraptured him so greatly, but how they moved, how they spoke in a way that fit no other. Hannibal’s honey dazed eyes etched up slowly to look at them, their hair tousled in a way that seemed so perfectly them, their nose turning up at the smell of unappealing ingredients. Every single thing kept him so keen on edge to just admire, to watch - Not how he had wanted to before, not how he had wanted to invade and interject his own experiments within somebody's life. This was something different entirely, and it nearly terrified the man. Hannibal glanced back down to his work on the board and despite his dwindling focus, feeling their warm hand melting into his working one made his slightly startled gaze dart quickly back to them. When his moment of surprise surpassed, his eyebrows narrowed slightly. 

“Were you listening?” They asked, a chuckle falling from their lips as he looked as he’d been woken from a deep sleep. He hadn’t quite answered, but all that had needed to be said could practically have been shouted off from high mountains. It could have been a dance, something organized and practiced for months on end with no stops; A dance that either party was yet to ever perform, but each time their eyes met one another, each time he had grazed just over their hand with his own when he guided them with a knife- Each moment he would listen to them ramble about their day, he felt like he had been put on stage with no dancing partner; Instead to watch. To study, and practice until they joined him in his leading steps. It was nothing short of euphoric just from hand sliding up from the top of his hand towards  his forearm, where his rolled-up sleeves rested. Their fingertips caught the inside of the fabric, gently tugging him towards them, instinctively letting the knife in the other hand slip from his grasp, turning towards them quickly in response. His large hands guided down to their smaller arms, his cold touch quickly raising goosebumps over their skin; Gardening up their arms and chilling their spine. Their stomach flipped when the backs of his knuckles rested gently over the skin of their cheek, his gentle touches always causing this effect. “Your features,” Hannibal began quietly, his lips leaning to hover feather-light over their forehead, nearly like he was tracing over it. “Incomparable to Carrara marble statues,” The whisper of his voice against their skin made their hands urge forward to him, letting her palms rest tenderly over his sides. The taller man smiled against her forehead, an exhale of a chuckle brushing over their hair. Their fingers fidgeted gently at the fabric of his shirt, the silky feeling rolling smoothly against their fingertips. “ Min elskede;”  _ `My beloved;` _ His left hand moved down from their hand down towards their hip, the man's fingers pushing down into the familiar curve of it. “You’re carved from Gods,”  He murmured, letting his lips press down a kiss to their forehead as his index finger traced over the curves of their sides gently.

“No,” They shook their head at the comment, with a breathy laugh - This was normal for them, unfortunately, nearly like an instant reaction to getting complimented. Shake their head, deny the sweetly tuned words, and settle on their own opinion despite what any other party said. Their stomach turned when his right hand met their chin, his thumb, and index finger gently pushing up to have them look into his eyes. Hannibal’s expression was rested, his burnt sienna eyes piercing into theirs, one of his eyebrows barely narrowing as they wondered over his expression curiously, their hands still resting on his sides.

“No?” He repeated their word, his rough fingers gentle on her chin as he let his thumb gently run circles under their lower lip. A pang of guilt shot through them, seeing his soft expression twist when they denied the compliment - Sure it was a bad habit, but it was something they had been so used to, it wasn’t easy to shake off. “You haven’t spoken like this before,” his tone fell quieter than it was, still gravely as it tumbled just above a whisper, “What’s wrong?” Hannibal’s hand slid from their chin up to cup the side of their cheek, his eyes locked within their gaze. They were quiet for a moment, eyebrows knitting together in thought, needing to process how to word what they wanted to say, for him to understand in the way they wanted him to. They shook their head once more, trying to lighten the moment with a small smile while one of their hands moved from his side up to lay on top of the one he laid so tenderly over their face.

“Nothing - It’s a bad habit; I’m sorry,” They murmured, trying to see past his worried eyes. Hannibal was the one to break the seeping silence, sipped at by the room like fog settling around them.

“It’s not a habit,” His fingers slipped from under their gentle grasp, slipping some of their hair between his fingertips. The man marveled in the soft texture as he spoke, “It’s something that’s been pressed for the mind to warp into truth,” His words were like ice melting into their heated skin, his delicate words sounding like slowly outstretched poetry. His eyes flickered over their features, admiring how their hair so perfectly complemented their face shape. “It has to unwrap itself,” He went on, his finger gently twisting into a lock of their hair before letting it fall away from his grasp. “That is something you never need to apologize for,” Hannibal leaned in once more, to press his lips against their forehead firmly, sighing quietly. Their arms in response  went to wrap again around him, pulling him closer this time; The embrace was something more special than he could've ever imagined. Their smaller warm frame, melting into his cold overarching one, wrapping tightly around him at the waist and resting their head against his chest; The fervent beat of his heart was a settling tone. “I won’t let you keep those lies,  Elskov.”

“I’m not your patient, Hannibal, you don’t need to fix me. “ They mumbled into his chest, his button-down a smooth cool texture against their heated flourishing pink cheeks. 

“You aren’t broken.” He murmured, taking in a slow inhale of their scent; Something about it was so pure. “You never have been; I will kiss and venerate every single inch of you before I consider letting you think awfully about yourself,” The pair stayed like this for a moment, settling into each other's presence and soft whispers of inhales and exhales. Their fingers slid up and down the back of his shirt, sighing quietly into his chest before they glanced up to look at him. Hannibal's eyes were settled closed, his nose tilted down towards them as he took in slow deep breaths of their scent, the gathering different smells of the spices they diced, and a slow gathering storm. As if it were nearly on cue, a quiet patter began to ring outside of the windows, thick drops striking at the glass a quickening frequency. This made the taller man's eyes peer open, now meeting the ones quietly gazing up towards him. A small laugh chimed from them both at the sudden eye contact.

"Thank you," They sighed, moving their tucked-away hands to cup Hannibals face, their thumbs sweeping gently over his high cheek-bones. He leaned his weight into their caring palms, humming out a soft breath as they let the comforting silence fill the quiet kitchen once more. Their index finger brushed some of his soft hair off to the side of his face, as his eyes yet again fell shut. Their touch was always something he accepted with much gratitude - It felt like an honor to have them simply graze his side or have them straighten his tie in the early morning. Their fingertips danced over the calm expression of him, tracing his jaw and nose with their middle finger and thumb; They both deserved each other, balancing one another out not only in how they interacted but the sheer beauty of one another.

**Author's Note:**

> I need to start writing more fluff, this was so nice to write! I hope you enjoyed
> 
> \- For any writing, blurb, or chaptered story commission questions/inquiries, feel free to message me on Twitter! @opossumhell


End file.
